


Snowed In

by Void_senpai



Category: Something Dark and Holy Series - Emily A. Duncan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Smutt, gay shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Void_senpai/pseuds/Void_senpai
Summary: Serefin proposes a drinking game to pass the time after a sudden blizzard leaves the group stranded in a tavern for another night.But the ale has ulterior motives, and so do the players.
Relationships: Malachiasz Czechowicz/Nadezhda Lapteva, Serefin Meleski/Kacper Neiborski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a fun little fluffy idea that popped into my head while I was supposed to be working on other things. Like my other two fics. And the housework. And my actual work.
> 
> It's not canon compliant, just an AU plot cul de sac where the main six are together and nobody is getting murdered. Just some cuteness and shipping shenanigans, the kind of breathing room that we don't always get in the books.
> 
> The characters belong to Emily Duncan. I own nothing. I am but a worm. Enjoy.

There was no way around it: They were snowed in. When Nadya awoke that morning, the frigid air felt like a slap on her bare legs. Colder than she was accustomed to, even for the slow revenge of the gods. They were determined to punish the world for its descent into madness and heresy, and her, for her own heresy. Some of it was the abandonment of the life of piety and strict devotion from which she never expected she would waver. The other dwelled in the winding caverns of her heart, where only she and the gods could see it. 

It had become less private as of late. It was unavoidable, but dangerous as well. As often as she reminded herself that Malachaisz was a liar and a heretic, she could not stop the color from rising in her cheeks every time he regarded her with that wicked smirk. Insolent. Deceptive. Monstrous. These facts mattered very little when his gaze followed her down the steps from their rooms and into the hall, where their motley crew had assembled to eat.

Unsurprisingly, the prince was a drink ahead of them all. Serefin had a far lower tolerance for boredom than some children. They stayed at the tavern keeper’s urging; A blizzard had rolled through the countryside, and it would be utterly foolish to press onward in such conditions. Though they all suspected the man was more interested in his ample coin than their safety, it was agreed that another night resting by the hearth would do them some good. Much of the day was spent pouring over books and maps in a half-hearted attempt to use the time wisely, but come nightfall, everyone was ready to cast that aside.

A second round of tankards suddenly appeared at the round table where they sat.

“What’s all this?”

“I’ve discovered,” began Serefin, pausing for a gulp. “That drinking is the best way to make time pass more quickly.” Kacper gave him a stern look.

“Or make it disappear entirely.”

“Exactly! And if we are going to be stuck here until tomorrow anyways--” Another sip. “--we may as well enjoy ourselves. Who knows when we’ll have another opportunity like this. Oh, Kacper, don’t look at me like that. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“How many times have I heard that?” Serefin gave him a pleading look, which Kacper seemed ill-equipped to fight against. He huffed and rolled his eyes, but took a drink anyhow.

Watching Kacper was rather strange. No matter what Serefin did, it seemed he just could not say no to him. Wherever the prince went, he was by his side, never too tired to look after this imperious drunkard. After months spent in their presence, Nadya began to notice Kacper stealing soft looks at him whenever he thought no one was looking, or how his breath would hitch when Serefin laid his head on his shoulder. She didn’t know who he thought he was fooling, other than perhaps the prince himself. Perhaps he did know. Then again, he was most well-known for his thick skull.

“I propose we play a game,” Serefin announced, setting down the empty tankard and motioning for another. Nadya looked at him warily.

“What sort of game, exactly?” 

Ostyia groaned, but Malachaisz was looking oddly intrigued. He ceased rocking on the back legs of his chair to listen.

“It’s called ‘Never Have I Ever,” he explained. It was already apparent that the drink had finally begun to work its magic on Serefin. “We go around the table saying one thing we’ve never done, and anyone who has, must drink.” 

“And how would you win, exactly?” asked Parijahan.

“By being the most innocent little lamb in our company,” he replied. “Or being able to hold your liquor.” 

“Ah,” she replied. “So  _ you _ play only for the love of the game.” He ignored her. The truce between factions had long since settled, and Serefin found that he was more willing to tolerate teasing from the others than just his own circle. His coursin, however, was another story.

Malachaisz eyed him intently, a smirk playing on his lips as he toyed with the beads in his hair. Conniving as always

“I’m in.”

Malachaisz was watching her from the corner of his eye. She knew what face meant. He wanted to take this game to another sphere. This was an opportunity to toy with her, one that he was always reluctant to pass up. A game of truth with a boy who always, always lies. It was a terrible idea, but she was determined to rise to the challenge. He would not get the better of her again. This time, she would come out on top.

“Me, too.” 

A crooked smile drew up one side of his mouth, and it was official. The gloves were coming off. She turned to Parijahan, silently asking her to not make her go into this alone. As her eyes flitted to Malachaisz and then back to her, it seemed she understood Nadya’s purpose. To her relief, Parj nodded and waved to the barmaid for another drink.

“Rashid?”

Like the other two boys, it looked like he was taking this as a challenge. Rather than tacitly declare his own cowardice, he agreed.

“Never drank with a vulture before,” he said wryly. “This should be interesting.”

“Oh, what the hell,” said Ostyia, throwing up her hands. “I’d like to see Serefin mopping up  _ my _ vomit for a change. You can’t say he doesn’t owe us.” 

Nadya was not convinced that those were her only motivations. She’d been keeping a weather eye on the red-headed barmaid serving them, who happened to be particularly well-endowed. It was when she stopped at their table that she remembered how charming Ostyia could be when the mood struck her.

Serefin only scowled back at her with guilty eyes. Now everyone was staring expectantly at Kacper, the last man standing, who had kept especially quiet that evening. He folded his arms across his chest.

“No.” The prince groaned.

“Oh, come on. Join us.”

“So I can make a fool of myself, too? Forget it.” 

“How should that be different from any other day?” Ostyia cut in, elbowing him in the ribs.

He was avoiding eye contact with the boy beside him, as if to avoid some sort of spell he might cast to convince him. But Serefin would not be swayed. He craned his neck about to look at his face, perhaps a little too close, making Kacper freeze in place, his eyes widening. She’d never seen Serefin pout.

“Pleeeease, Kacper?” he whined. “It’ll be more fun with you.” That was the incantation. With nervous reluctance and a heavy sigh, he nodded, making Serefin grin from ear to ear.

“Perfect! I’ll get you another.” 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered.

Ostyia smirked at the boy, watching him fidget in his seat as his friend slid a fresh tankard in front of him. He glared back at her.

“Oh, shut up,” he said irritably as she began chuckling to herself at his expense.

“I said nothing.”

“No, but you were thinking it.” 

“So, who will go first, then?”

“I think it should be the one who suggested it in the first place,” replied Malachaisz, his eyes taunting over the rim. He felt no need to save himself for the game.

It looked like this would be just as much a competition between him and Serefin as it was with the cleric. She grew tired of the constant posturing of boys, turning anything and everything into a battle. She was not unfamiliar with drink. Vast quantities of wine, easily hundreds of casks, were stored in the cellar at the monastery. While it was primarily used ceremonially, there were a handful of feast days throughout the year to honor the gods that devolved into illicit carousing once the abbott was asleep. It was also not unheard of for a cask or two to mysteriously vanish, the culprit never discovered. But a cleric would never do a thing like that.

“Fine by me,” Serefin said. He stroked his chin while he studied the group, clearly looking for something to catch as many of them as possible. Not too mundane, but not to narrow either. The truth was that Nadya may not have needed any tolerance. A sheltered life of prayer and poverty was not exactly conducive to whatever debauchery he had in mind. Her sins were far more recent, and far less titillating, save the one. Those thoughts remained unmanifested thereafter, and hence, were safe from prying eyes..

“Hmmm...Never have I ever been naked in public.”

A hush fell over the group, only eyes moving in search of the guilty party, but none appeared. Ever so slowly, Nadya reached out with a trembling hand, grasped the heavy wooden handle, and took a drink. Ostyia’s eye nearly popped out of her head, and the others seemed incredulous as well. A chuckle rumbled in Rashid’s chest.

“I don’t think he meant it like little children running around on the beach.”

“I’m well aware.” After a long pause, Serefin pressed further.

“So, why?”

“Why what?” she asked, her brows pressed together in confusion.

“Why were you naked?”

Malachiasz was looking at her again, his head cocked to the side in curiosity. The tops of her ears grew hot. She wasn’t expecting to answer follow up questions.

“It’s not anything lewd.” Her defensive tone only seemed to intensify his focus on her, making her blush. “It’s for a ceremony during mass on one of the high holy days. One among us is stripped and symbolically bathed by a priestess.” That was still not enough to satisfy her audience. “...And last year, I volunteered.”

“Perhaps you should tell the heretics that story,” said Malachaisz, noting the redness in her cheeks. “You could win many more converts that way.” 

His teasing once felt more strictly adversarial. She preferred it that way. It kept her from feeling guilty for regularly holding a blade to his throat. That is, until she realized that she would much prefer her lips to the  _ voryen. _ Instead of annoying her as before, most of his teasing made her heart flutter in her chest, as if he were flirting with her. It was just a kiss, a moment of weakness on her part, but now a thick tension had bloomed between them. There was no doubt in her mind that this was just another element of his manipulations, yet another means to lower her defenses. And it was working. But two could play at that game.

“Oh? Does that mean you’ve finally come around?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I said heretics,  _ towry dzimyka.  _ Not monsters.” His voice grew dark and chilly. Always so hot and cold with her. It was maddening. 

“My turn, then,” Ostyia interrupted. “Never have I ever kissed a man.” She leaned proudly back into her chair, watching Nadya and the Akolans take another drink. She gave Kacper a knowing smile. He looked as if he were about to kick her under the table. Ostyia was losing patience with him, but there was no need to torment the poor boy. Gods know he was tormented enough as it was.

She watched and sipped along with a handful of other confessions, some duller than others. Rashid had somehow never ridden a horse before. Parj did not know how to swim. The ale was spreading a calming warmth from her chest down to the tips of her fingers and toes. While still firmly in control of her faculties, she found that she was feeling bolder than before they started, and in a different way than she was accustomed to. It took little convincing to follow the urging to her goddess to unleash her wrath upon their enemies. It took a great deal to allow herself to stare at the beautiful monster at their table. At the moment, it was quite easy.

Kacper had relaxed somewhat since they started. Their laughter seemed to put him at ease, and a flush was rising up the exposed sliver of chest from his open shirt, to his neck, to his cheeks. Curiously, Serefin appeared to be behaving himself.

“Malachaisz?” Parijahan prodded. “Can you think of something you  _ haven’t _ done?” 

  
  


“I can think of a few.” His pale face pulsed with color for a second before vanishing. “Never have I ever met my father.” It suddenly became quiet again. Serefin looked at him, brows knit with confusion. “My  _ real _ father,” he clarified. All but Nadya drank. So he  _ was _ capable after all. Malachaisz looked at her expectantly.

“I was still in swaddling clothes when I was given to the monastery.” Her tone was very matter-of-fact. “I was too young to remember, so I don’t think it counts.” 

“And you don’t wish you knew them?” Kacper asked. She shook her head.

“Not particularly. The monks were all the family I ever needed.”  _ Were _ . Serefin looked solemnly down into his cup. Only Anna was left alive, and she couldn’t be certain of that, either. But the word had another meaning now. There were others now that she cared for, in one way or another. If they all survived this ordeal, perhaps something new could rise from those ashes. Or they would kill each other.

“I can’t imagine,” said Kacper, somewhat envious. “I’m the oldest of eight. Well, that could be nine by now, for all I know.” Parj winced.

“So you left, only to be tasked with looking after another child?” she chuckled. “What rotten luck.”

“Is that any way to speak of a prince?” Serefin groused, leaning onto the table by his elbows. “And is there some conspiracy among you to ridicule me tonight? I may as well be in court.”

“If you were in court, more people would be trying to fuck you,” Ostyia muttered, making Kacper choke on his drink. Serefin thumped him on the back as he coughed out whatever he had nearly aspirated.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yes, I-I swallowed wrong.” Ostiya, as it turned out, was a mean drunk. She was hardly sweetness and sunshine on her best days. Tonight, she was in rare form. A cruel smile began to creep onto Malachaisz’s lips. He seemed to be enjoying this farce the most. Kacper had remained the hardest to win over once our two groups merged, though Malachaisz did almost nothing to improve their standing. Rashid was chuckling into his tankard, nearly finished, but Parijahan merely rolled her eyes.

“Alright, I’ll go next then,” Kacper countered, squinting hard at Ostyia. He looked...unsteady. 

“It’s not your turn.”

“I don’t care.” He wiped a spot of ale and spit from his mouth with the back of his arm. “Never have I ever kissed anyone I didn’t care for.”

Nadya did not stir. Though she didn’t dare look over for confirmation, she was acutely aware that Malachaisz was not either. She could sense his eyes on her. It all made her heart flutter in her ribs, like the wings of a hummingbird in a cage. Ostyia let out a short burst of a laugh before taking a long swig.

“That’s hardly a good qualifier,” she said with a smirk. “You’ve only ever kissed your mother.”

That was the final straw. Kacper rose to his feet, red-faced, his hands squeezed into fists. Nayda could not definitively call it regret, she saw something flash across Ostyias face showing she understood she had gone too far. He spun on his heels and stormed away.

“Kacp--”

“No!” he shouted, startling the other patrons as he stomped up the stairs. “Fuck you, Ostyia!”

She wobbled as she rose to pursue him, but Serefin stood first and held out his arm to stop her.

“Somehow, I don’t think he’s in the mood to speak to you right now,” he snapped. “I’ll go.”

They sat in silence, watching Serefin chase after Kacper with a mutual unease that no one wanted to acknowledge. Parijahan finished the rest of her drink and shot Ostyia a pointed look.

“Why do you push him?” she asked irritably. She glanced at the stairs, sparing a sympathetic frown for the boy who was no longer there. 

“It’s for his own good.” Her tone was almost dismissive, and Parj was having none of it. “Trust me. I’ve watched long enough to know that if it’s left up to him, nothing will happen. All he needs is a little encouragement.”

“Is that what you call it?” Nayda sniped. She didn’t approve of Ostiya’s methods. She knew the pain of unspoken feelings all too well, and how much even well-intentioned teasing can wound its target. Fortunately for Kacper, it was not coming from the object of his affection. She could not say the same for herself.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so...persistent,” she replied, circling her finger around the rim of her empty tankard. “I’ll apologize tomorrow. Though, I have a hunch he may not be so angry with me in the morning.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Nadya darkly. “For all our sakes.”

\--------------------------------------

Kacper swiped at the single tear caught in his eye. Livid and utterly mortified. Which was greater, and which was worse? He wrenched the door to his room open and slammed it shut behind him, before sinking into the chair by the window. His skin had thickened enough to handle Ostiya’s commentary when they were alone. It was her private joke, and Kacper was his own private joke. Tonight, though. Tonight, she was relentless, and doing it in front of everyone was unforgivable. All the eyes on him, the knowing looks, made him want to disappear into the faded wallpaper.

The tugging on his heart was getting worse with every passing day. He did not fear so much for Serefin’s life when they were on the front. He was a gifted blood mage with guards, and until the cleric had joined them, he was mostly untouchable. Now, the threat of death was mounting, plunging them into greater peril with every step. Despite the prince’s mistakes, complaining, and frequent idiocy, he had it bad. Very bad. The fear of losing him had made Kacper all the more committed to remain by his side, but the longer he was there, the more his unrequited love tore him apart. 

Sharing a bed was an entirely separate cause of frustration. Even when Kacper first joined his service, the mere idea of having such an impossibly gorgeous boy as his bedmate made his sixteen-year-old self turn crimson. Serefin remained oblivious, or at least unbothered, happy to keep warm under the same quilt wherever they traveled. Now, years later, this frozen wasteland was openly mocking him. Serefin instinctively sought out his friend’s body heat in the night, torturing Kacper with hot breath on his ear or a stray arm on his chest. Such exquisite torture. It was taking everything he had not to pull him into a close embrace, to bury his nose in the prince’s golden locks and breathe him in. One morning, his eyes blinked open to find himself nose-to-nose, gazing more closely at Serefin’s slumbering visage than ever before. But you couldn’t just kiss a prince, especially as his servant. And so, he was greeted every morning with a heavy heart and an aching stiffness that was impossible to ignore, but even more impossible to alleviate.

The doorknob rattled and opened behind him as he stared blankly out into the naked trees that dotted the hillside.

“Go away, Ostyia,” he growled. The voice that answered was soft.

“It’s me.” His heart stopped. He wasn’t prepared to deal with this. Not now. Not with everything that was happening around them. As much as he wanted to, he did not look away from the trees. The sound of Serefin’s footsteps rumbled through the floor.

“She didn’t mean it, Kacp. She always acts like an ass when she drinks too much. That’s why I don’t normally encourage it.”

“She wasn’t acting,” he replied flatly.

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t used to hearing many apologies from Serefin, and it scared him. He stood to face him, and steeled himself for what might come next.

“What for?”

“I shouldn’t have made you do it,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and massaging the bridge of his nose. “I know you don’t like that sort of thing.” Kacper sighed.

“You didn’t make me do it. I could have said no.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because you wanted me to. And because I wanted to stay with you a little longer. Is that so strange?” He felt himself getting flustered. He was losing his resolve.

“No, it’s just--you’ve never been a servant to me, Kacp. I don’t command you. I don’t expect you to give me whatever I want just because of my position.”

“Ser--”

“--You can tell me no. You should probably do it more often.”

“Blood and bone, Serefin” he said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You’re hopeless.”

Before his conscious mind could tell him not to, he had Serefin pinned to the door, and he was kissing him. He had finally reached the limit of his deep frustration and longing for someone he couldn’t have, for someone who would, in all likelihood, push him away any moment now. But he didn’t. Instead, he felt Serefin grip his shirt, nails digging into his waist, and drag him even closer. Serefin responded to his desperate passion in kind, his warm lips picking up the pace in this heated dance between them. Kacper could have stayed there forever, but he needed to pull away. He needed to know what he had just done.

Serefin leaned against the door, breathless, bewildered, looking as if his legs were about to give out underneath him. Kacper’s heart pounded like a war drum, waiting, watching, holding his breath, his hand still on the boy’s hip.

“Well,” Serefin gasped. “That makes a lot more sense now.” His gaze darted down to Kacper’s swollen lips, and then up again. “Do it again.”

He nearly burst apart at the seams. He grabbed Serefin’s face roughly, winding his fingers through the hair that he had wanted to touch for so long. A tug from the back of his head elicited a tiny groan that melted into Kacper’s mouth, sending a shiver down his spine. He broke away, forcing Serefin’s head aside to begin a trail of kisses up his jaw to his ear. A hand snaked up the prince’s chest, feeling his heartbeat and the hitching of his breath as teeth grazed his earlobe. His fingertips groped at Kacpers hips until they finally found purchase and pulled them firmly against his. A strange noise escaped his lips at the sensation, one that didn’t sound at all like himself. Down his throat, to his shoulder, to his collarbone. The sounds Serefin made at his touch were absolutely intoxicating. This was all so much better than he imagined. One languid lick trailing back up to his jaw released a groan that reverberated off the walls. Then came the thudding of feet ascending the steps, growing closer to the door. Serefin pressed his lips together in an attempt to muffle the noise. Their panting alone should have been enough to give them away, but the steps passed them by.

“Do you think it was one of them?” Kacper whispered.

“I don’t really care, do you?” 

“No.” A bashful smile stretched across Kacper’s face. He didn’t know why he was feeling so shy all of a sudden, not when he had been moaning into his best friend’s neck not a minute earlier. Serefin grinned back at him.

“Good.”

Kacper crashed backwards onto the bed. His head was swimming, barely able to believe that this was all real and not an illusion or another late night fantasy. His prince, this frustrating, reckless, stupid boy who held his heart in his scarred palms, was pressing him into the mattress, prying his mouth open with his tongue. There was nothing to be done but to let it all wash over him, to drown in the sight, sound, and scent of Serefin. 

His fingers teased under Kacper’s shirt, dragging along the line of his breeches, prompting a yelp of surprise that caught in his throat. Warm, smooth fingertips slid up his torso, leaving searing lines in their wake. It quickly became apparent that Serefin was trying to take it off of him, and he was more than happy to oblige, provided that Serefin followed suit. Straddling Kacper’s hips, he clumsily yanked it over his head and tossed it carelessly to the floor. Until now, he’d denied himself even a peek at the prince in a state of undress, but now he was free to drink in his lean, well-muscled form for as long as he could keep his eyes open. 

“See something you like?” Serefin asked, his face intolerably smug. Kacper looked away.

“Shut up.” Serefin laughed, very pleased with himself for making Kacper flustered again. This was going to be a recurring pattern, wasn’t it?

Kacper struck back by grabbing his arm to topple him over. It had been too long since he could touch him. The sudden connection of Serefin’s bare skin on his felt like a breath of air, their pounding chests, then their mouths, devouring each other with little thought spared for actual air. Hands roamed hungrily over each other, squeezing, scratching, caressing, until a feral bite to the shoulder made Serefin’s hips give an involuntary jerk forward, and then...

_ Oh. _

Kascper let out a strangled moan. That was good. Too good. Serefin hissed sharply through his teeth. It took only a second of accidental friction to remind Kacper just how painfully hard he was. Lids heavy, he gave an experimental thrust upwards. The feeling was even more delicious the second time. An approving groan rumbled deep in the prince’s chest, one that sounded more urgent than before. Kacper’s hands found the curve of his ass and relished the helpless noise that escaped Serefin’s mouth as he ground the boy’s weeping arousal into his own. So many sleepless nights. So much time wasted that could have been spent in his arms, if only he had not waited. The sensation must have become too much for Serefin. He broke their kiss to rest his forehead next to him on the bed, his breathing growing more ragged and needy with every roll of his hips. Each slow, deliberate thrust released soft whimpers from Kacper’s throat. It was hard not to give in to the fire growing inside him, blazing hotter by the second. But if Serefin kept this up any longer, he was not going to have a choice.

“Mmmm...Kacp…”

Hearing Serefin moan his name immediately pushed him over the edge, sending hot waves of pleasure throughout his entire body with a cry that might have woken their neighbors. Serefin was not far behind . One more agonizing thrust, a prolonged growl through his teeth, everything spilled over. He collapsed, wide-eyed, spasming and panting as if he had just run a race. 

Exhaustion won out. He rolled off of Kacper and onto the mattress, curling into his side while they recovered from their ordeal, each coated in a thin sheen of sweat. They laid there together in comfortable silence. He watched Serefin close his eyes with a soft, contented sigh as he combed his fingers through his hair. Soft and silky, even as it stuck to his forehead. Even in their weakened states, he was still tempted to lift up the prince’s chin and kiss him again. But more than anything, he hoped he would not wake tomorrow and discover this was all a cruel dream, or worse...

“So...Ser, tomorrow--”

“-- No ‘tomorrows’,” he mumbled drowsily, draping his arm across Kacper’s chest. “I’m quite sure I’m going to be dead tomorrow.”

“Fine,” he chuckled, taking his hand. “But if in the event you survive, perhaps we should talk about... this.”

“We will. However, I suggest we do it during the daylight hours, or else it may not happen at all.” His lips curled into a mischievous smile.

As tired as he was, the giddiness would not subside. He thought the prince would rebuff him, and he was definitely not expecting  _ that. _ He was so drunk on this moment that he would be wearing the same ridiculous smile for days, possibly weeks. Then, a single thought made his heart skip a beat:  _ Everyone _ was going to know. 

“Blood and bone,” Kacper groaned, hiding his eyes with his hand. Serefin’s eyes flickered open with a concerned frown.

“What’s the matter?”

“Ostiya. There will be no living with her after this.” Serefin relaxed and gave a short laugh, nuzzling into his shoulder.

Kacper wasn’t going to worry about that now. Instead, he was going to bask in the warmth of the boy he loved so dearly. No more hiding. No more lonely nights. Every one after this would be spent together, wrapped in each other’s arms. Safe. Content. Whole.

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally wrote this as a one shot that had the Nadya/Malachaiz smut first, but Kacper and Serefin are my precious angels who need more content, so I'll add a chapter for our main couple later.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
